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Tender.
Soft.
“I need to know what happened that day.”
I blink, my heart rate spiking with anxiety and apprehension.
I swallow. “Why?”
“Because I wanna know your pain. All of it.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “I don’t think I can,” I tell him honestly. I’ve never told a single soul what really happened that day, because if I do that means it really happened, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle that.
“Try.”
Try.
Does he even understand how hard it is for me to do that? My eyes fall closed as my body tenses all over, memories of that day playing over and over in my mind.
Images I’ll never forget.
But Linc deserves to know, and telling him is the only way I can move on.
